


Just content

by ccshbh



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, but fluffy, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccshbh/pseuds/ccshbh
Summary: I wanted to write a quarantine fic, that is not all doom and gloom. So, this is short and hopefully sweet.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Just content

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everysingleoneofyou](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=everysingleoneofyou).



> Hi lovelies,
> 
> So uhm... Although I haven't watch Riverdale in a few months, I still heard certain things today and... well, its time for me to cut ties with all things Riverdale. Which unfortunately also includes AO3. This will probably be the last thing Riverdale I write for a good while if not for a very long time. I might end "Travel like a Cooper", because it would be kind of wrong not to, but... other than that, this is goodbye. I'm not going to let my mental health and the progress I made with it be compromised by a bunch of people that obviously don't understand their craft, their audience or their characters. Quiet frankly, I'm ashamend by the fact that these people get paid to write up such bullshit, while on this website many are way more capable than them and only get to live their passion for writing in their free time. 
> 
> Every single one of you that ever left me kudos, that ever left me a comment: Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate every single one of you. 
> 
> Stay safe in this crazy world darlings! Be happy. 
> 
> Maybe, we'll meet again one day. 
> 
> Love,
> 
> Nina

The situation as a whole is objectively terrifying. The numbers just keep rising and rising, the date for when the quarantine finally will be lifted is pushed back further and further, the economy seems to crumble a little bit more every day and the man that is supposed to lead the country through all this, is at best unhelpful.

If Jughead was still in college, he’d probably given up hope on seeing a lecture hall from the inside this semester. It all feels like the world is falling apart in the grand scheme of things.

On a personal level though (and he does feel guilty about even thinking this way, thankyouverymuch), he can’t help but think that he is a lucky bastard.

Because truly, compared to thousands of other people out there he IS lucky. He’s sold enough books on his first and second novel to have built up a decent amount of savings. Him and Betty were able to afford their own home. The independent online magazine they run has a faithful following and Betty’s job as a lawyer is… well, lets call it crisis resistant. They have decent health coverage and for now, no one in their immediate circle is infected. They check in with both their families every night and Riverdale is okay for now. A few cases here and there, but no one with to serious symptoms.

Thinking about all that, almost feels a little bit like bragging. His 15-year-old self would have certainly thought less of him for thinking this way and it’s probably the reason he is still awake at 2 am, staring at the ceiling.

He feels Betty shuffle closer next to him, propping her head onto his chest and wrapping her arm around his torso.

“You okay?” she mumbles sleepily.

Jughead exhales. “How did you know?”

“Jug, I can practically hear you think. What is it?”

“Do you ever feel guilty for… you know, being as well off as we are right now? There are thousands, if not millions out there, that are currently losing their jobs, that don’t have health care that covers them when they get sick. Meanwhile we are here, and we get to live this life where we are safe, where our jobs are safe, and I feel like I really haven’t done anything to deserve it. Like I just got here by pure luck and chance.”

There is silence for a few beats, then he hears Betty’s sigh in the darkness.

“I… Well, yes, I do get what you mean. And I’d be lying if I said, I hadn’t felt this way over the course of the last few days, but Juggie, we can’t save the whole world. We tried that a few times and it… well, we made it out of that with our bodies barely intact, nevermind our mental health. In a situation like this, it’s only the small things we can do. Like getting the Henderson’s groceries or sewing those masks. It’s the small things that make the biggest impact during these times.”

Jughead lets out another breath and pulls her closer. “You are right.”

“Of course, I’m, silly.” Betty teases. “The wife it always right, that’s a law of nature.”

Jughead can’t help the chuckle that escapes his mouth. “Nah, you already were, before we got married.”

“Well, someone’s got to tell the world where they went wrong.”

…

The next morning, when Jughead opens the window that leads outside into their backyard to air the smell of their cooking out before they start working, Mr. and Mrs. Henderson from next door are already tinkering around in their garden. It has been their main occupation lately, and Jughead is convinced the otherwise pretty active, elderly couple is completely bored out of their mind. But they are also in their mid-70’s and because none of their children live anywhere nearby, the first thing him and Betty did when the firsts cases in Washington State popped up was to offer them to help with the shopping.

Before that, they’d known their neighbors in a mostly superficial way. They had the obligatory chat over the fence every once in a while, and greeted each other, whenever they’d meet in the front yard or in the street.

Now though, after the countless times them and the Henderson’s had exchanged groceries over the fence and had gotten caught up in as many conversations, Jughead feels like he knows all about them. They’ve been married for 46 years. They have three children, that all live on the East Coast. They share some chocolate before they go to sleep every night. They do not judge people by their appearance and apparently Mr. Henderson is the grumpier one. They might be his new role models when it came to what I wanted for his own marriage.

It only takes a few moments for Mrs. Henderson to notice that he is watching them. She stands up straight, from where she had been banding over a tomato plant and waves at him cheerily.

“Good morning Jughead, dear.” she exclaims, and he can’t help but smile back at her. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep! You know, to boost that immune system.”

“All good, Mrs. Henderson, thank you! How about you?”

“I slept like a baby, dear. Don’t you worry.”

“You might have, but I didn’t. Snores like a bear that one.” her husband cuts in teasingly and Jughead can hear Betty splutter her tea all over the table behind him in laughter.

“You might be hearing yourself there, love.” Mrs. Henderson teases back and turns around to face Jughead again. “Jughead, darling, is there any possibility you and Betty would be up for another Hitchcock movie in the garden tonight, if the weather plays along. I had such a good time watching “the Birds” the other night, it would be a lot of fun.”

“Consider it done, Mrs. H.”

…

The portable screen and the projector were the third thing Jughead invested the money from his first book in (the first being Betty’s engagement ring, the second being their house), and he has never been more thankful for that decision than now.

Betty is leaning against him, two empty pizza plates are next to them on the blanket they dragged outside and “Psycho” is playing on the screen in front of them. He feels incredibly content and all that is happening in the world is just becomes white noise, fading into back of his mind.


End file.
